You were Born in a Palace by the Seine
by xxVictorious
Summary: "your mother though... she was born in a real palace, when it was the greatest country in the world." Just some anya/dima fluff! Updated: "and he was so sick.. what if I make our children sick like he was?" aka: Anya's memories of her brother's sickness are triggered by her son.
1. Maria

**Hi guys! This is my first fanfic for Anastasia, but it's been brewing in my mind for a while now!**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing about this!**

**Enjoy!**

"…your mother though, she was born in a _real_ palace, right off of the sea." Dmitri Sudayev whispered to the tiny bundle of blankets in his arms, looking out over the waking city. Morning light poured in through the thin lilac drapes, bathing him and the infant in a golden glow. "This is as close as we can get you to that, love. But, I think it works pretty well, don't you? Your great grandmother's mansion, right beside the Seine." He ran his finger down the newborn's cheek, coaxing her sky-colored eyes to open. She was barely eight hours old, with no official name, but Dima already knew he'd go to the ends of the earth to keep her from living the life he did. The life Anya lived, too. "They're all waiting to see you. Nana, your Aunt Lily, Uncle Vlad.. but your mother deserves some rest before, don't you think?" The infant blinked up at him sleepily, and Dmitri couldn't wipe the smile from his face.

"Really I'm just trying to keep Lily from running her mouth about her down at the Neva club before she even has a name." Anya teased, drawing his attention to where she was laying on her side in the bed. "you know, I thought a hospital would be fine, but this bed is really worth all the fawning from Nana." She pushed herself into a sitting position, waving off Dmitri when he tried to assist her. Anya stretched her arms above her head, hiding the slight wince at the discomfort the movement brought her. "Have you put her down at all, Dima?" She teased, a brilliant yet tired smile resting on her face.

"Only when you had her." He admitted, offering the purple bundle from his arms over to her. "They offered to take her so I could sleep… but.." How was he supposed to say _I'm afraid she'll disappear _without sounding irrational.

"I know. I can't let her go either." Anya mirrored his unspoken fear, adjusting her daughter in her arms. "Are you going to let Mama get a good look at you?" She cooed to the baby, unwrapping the blanket just slightly. "She's got your hair, Dima!" She bumped his arm with her shoulder as she took the knitted cap off of their daughter. Dark, thick hair covered her head, much like that of her father. "Can you open your eyes for me, _mon Cherie?"_

"They're blue. Romanov blue." He confirmed, his arm draping around her shoulders gently. His hand ran over her upper arm, as they both looked at their daughter.

"did you let _her _get any sleep, or were you too busy telling her about your greatest cons?" Anastasia secured the blanket a little tighter around her daughter, before leaning into him. "did you come up with a name for her, during your talk?"

"isn't it you who names her? You're the princess." Dmitri kissed her temple quickly, barely able to tear his eyes from the little girl. "She's a princess, too."

"She's just our daughter. Just a normal, happy baby." Anya insisted, subconsciously tightening her grip on her. _A princess would be locked in a basement in Yekaterinburg. A princess would be taken out by the Bolsheviks in a second. A princess can still end up a starving, nameless orphan._

"She's safe, Anya. She'll never go through.. what you did." He promised, now mirroring her fears. Dmitri quickly decided to change the subject- Anya's nightmares had gotten worse as she got closer to the birth of their daughter, and all he could do was hope they subsided for her sake.

"We could call her Alexandra, for your Mother?"

"I like Alexandra.. but if we had a boy I'd want to call him Alexei and aren't those too similar for siblings? I'd like to save that."

Dima smiled a little, at the suggestion that she wanted another child, even after he heard her screams for hours on end. "you want another one already?"

"Shut up, Dmitri. What about.. Tatiana?" 

"did you just pick a random sister?"

"Natalia."

"I knew a Natalia once.. she was-"

"Okay, not Natalia. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Anastasia."

"I'm not naming her after myself, Dima."

"Okay, what about-"

It came to them in unison, as did the way it poured off their lips.

"Maria" 

"Maria."

Anastasia looked down at their daughter, who was looking up at her with the same eyes as herself. As her father. And her Nona. Maria was undoubtedly her mother's daughter. It made sense for her to have the name of the woman who brought her this life. Maria Feodorovna was the last living blood relative of Anastasia until that very morning. It was fitting.

"Maria is perfect. Absolutely perfect." Anya whispered, stroking Maria's cheek softly. "aren't you, sweet girl?"

Dmitri's hand covered Anya's, where it rested on the baby's tiny head. "Maria it is." He rested his chin atop her head, the smell of her lavender shampoo soothing any remaining fears about their new life.

So much had changed in their two years since meeting. The princess training, the trip to Paris, the discoveries, the falling for the love of his life all over again. Leaving her title behind, travelling France, their grand wedding at the _insistence _of Lily and the Dowager. Their quick returning to Paris at the discovery of their little surprise. Sweet little Maria. They certainly hadn't expected life, for once, to be so simple and so.. _happy._

"So, your highness, who do we let in first?"


	2. Alexei

**Hey guys! Back again! This time with the news that I'll be seeing the show on the 30****th****, the second to last show! So, that inspired me to get this little fic (that's been swimming around my head for days) down on paper!**

**Disclaimer: shockingly, I own nothing.**

Her screams were earth shattering. The sound of loss felt so close to the heart that any more may just break her. They were cries, sobs, of distress, heartbreak, and agony.

It took Vlad and Lily both to hold him back, from breaking through the doors just to get to her. The sound of her screaming, crying, had him on his knees in tears of his own. Sobs wrecked through his body at the sound- he could only imagine the worst. Dmitry himself wasn't sure if he could face more lost either.

It's the silence they all remember most. The silence that stopped his heart, forcing him from a kneel to resting on his hands, trying desperately to hold himself up. Lily's face was buried in the side of Vlad's jacket, His hand resting on her shoulder. Vlad stood silent, holding an arm around his wife, hoping for anything to go right for them. Even Maria, just over a year old, was quietly sleeping somehow, unbothered by the cries of her parents.

They all knew that Dmitry wouldn't survive losing her.

It was when the Dowager hobbled out of the room, clutching her cane so tight her knuckles were transparent.

"She'd like to see you, Dmitry." Maria cleared her throat, sitting on the cushioned chair behind them. "She needs to see you." She clarified.

He didn't need to be told twice, pushing up on his hands and taking off down the hall so quickly that he nearly fell. Dmitry stumbled into the room, running to her. She was alive, that's all he needed at the moment.

The door pushed open and there Anya was. Golden hair tumbling around her shoulders like a halo, tears streaming down her pale face. Dmitry's arms were around her in a second, and the minute they made contact Anya's tears turned back into the heart wrenching sobs he heard from beyond the door. "Thank god, Anya, thank god you're okay." He wasn't the world's most devout man, but he swore in that moment that if he never had to hear her scream like that again, he'd be in the pews every Sunday.

Anya's face was buried in his neck, warm tears hitting the collar of his shirt. When she pulled away, she used her free arm to wipe her tears from under her eyes. "I didn't.. I didn't remember how sick Alexei was. Then next thing I know they give me him, and tell me he's a boy and I just- I remembered." Her attention was instead directed to her other arm, where the tiny baby lay. His chest rose and fell, his eyes fluttered gently with sleep. In her arm, against her chest, their son was alive and healthy.

"Every time he fell. Mama didn't let him play. Every time Maria and I would do anything with him and he got hurt- she would send us to bed early those nights." Those were the only nights she knew even a semblance of hunger, before Yekaterinburg, she thought to herself. "But he was my little brother and-"

"Your best friend." Dmitry finished for her, resting his cheek on top of her head. His heart had slowed at some point in the past minute- somewhere between realizing she was alive and okay, and so was their baby (son, he learned)- and he could finally process again. It wasn't that same survival instinct he felt before, to get to her.

"My best friend. And he was so sick.. and then I remembered that night in the celler, Papa had them bring him a chair, he couldn't stand long enough to wait.. and..and he didn't stand a chance." She whispered, pulling her new son impossibly closer. "He bled so much. He bruised so easily." Anya closed her eyes tightly, willing the tears away. "And I never realized, I never even considered.. what if I made our children sick, like him. What if, my Alexei was like my brother Alexei…is it a curse to name him that? Are we condemning him to a short life filled with pain and suffering-" She coughed out, nearly choking on her sobs.

Dmitry brought his hand up to rest on the baby's face, on top of Anya's own hand. Brown eyes like his own peaked open to look at him, before the baby turned his face back against Anya. His hair was as dark as Maria's had been, though hers had lightened to the same honey color of her mother. "Anya.."

"But he's okay. He's little and beautiful and he's okay." She got out, the tears finally returning to a controllable level. "He's not going to be sick like Alexei was. Nana is sure of it, she made them check and- he's okay." Her finger gently ran over the newborn's nose, making his eyes open again. "And his name is Alexei, because he was my best friend and my little brother, and he had his life _stolen_." Just like the rest of her family, even like her.

"And then I cried even more." Anya explained, breaking eye contact with her son to look at Dmitry. "Because he's okay. And I didn't make him sick. And Maria gets to have a little brother, and Nana got to see her family live on, and Lily and Vlad get to experience the children neither of them had-" Anya leaned her forehead against his, finally smiling through all of the tears that blurred her vision, "And we have a little boy now, Dima. Who looks just like you."

Dmitry kissed her forehead, using his free hand to wipe the rest of her tears out off of her cheek. "I thought you died, Anya. Until Nana came out there I thought you died. Or were dying.."

"I'm okay. We're okay." She promised, snuggling her body up against his. "I love you, Dima."

"I'll love you forever, your highness." He promised quietly, now sharing her gaze on their son. The baby was even smaller than Maria had been, his tiny hand grasping the top of Anya's nightdress. "Can I hold him or-"

"Give me a few more seconds. I just need to believe he's really here."


End file.
